


Cheer

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 06:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16192403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis watches Gladio and Prompto train.





	Cheer

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “a kiss as encouragement.” Prompt on [my tumblr prompt list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/176075204220/prompt-list).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

The training yard is full when Noctis gets there, though as far as he knows, it’s not an official drill. He recognizes a few of the other glaives sparring with one another across the field, but his main focus is on the two closest to him. His shield rushes in for a devastating blow, and his best friend tries to parry but winds up stumbling backwards and hitting the pavement. Gladiolus barks too harshly, “Get up!”

Even from several meters away, Noctis can see that Prompto’s both queasy and determined. He scrambles back to his feet, his far thinner sword clutched tightly in his trembling hands. Noctis knows he isn’t really comfortable with it—he prefers long-ranged weapons, even when they’re just playing video games. But if he’s going to be a Crownsguard, he’ll need to be good at close combat too. And Gladiolus isn’t sparing any punches. Gladiolus storms him again, and Prompto just barely manages to roll out of the way. His practice sword goes sailing for Gladiolus’ side, but Gladiolus has whirled around a split-second later and has no trouble batting it away. Another blow hits Prompto’s leg and rips out a cry of pain that tears at Noctis’ heart. He knows this is part of it. He knows there are potions waiting. And he knows that Gladiolus wouldn’t dare hurt Noctis’ beloved ball of sunshine _too_ much.

Knowing all that, it’s still hard to watch. The only consolation is that it’s invigorating to see Prompto’s ardor—he’s trying so _hard_ , and Noctis is proud of that. He’s incredibly proud of the way Prompto stands up to a man twice his size, fervently going all out to earn his place in the guard. Even more than that, Noctis feels both honoured and flattered that Prompto would go so far just to make sure he can always stay by Noctis’ side. Noctis knows that’s what really motivated the Crownsguard application. Prompto doesn’t want the money or prestige. He wants to wear a uniform that proves his loyalty to _Noctis_ , and he wants to follow Noctis to the end. Noctis is more grateful for that than Prompto will ever know.

Hopefully, it’ll get easier. By the time he’s truly inducted, Prompto will be able to wield any weapon with as much skill as any of the glaives. At least he has Gladiolus’ special attention in the meantime. Gladiolus goes in for another crushing blow that sends Prompto flying, which makes Noctis wince, but he grits his teeth together and tells himself it’s voluntary and necessary.

As Prompto collapses on the floor, panting hard, Gladiolus lowers his sword. He takes a few steps forward to tower over Prompto, frowning down at him. Noctis wills Gladiolus to say something nice. But then Gladiolus looks over Prompto’s body, catching Noctis’ eye. He lifts a hand to wave, which Noctis returns. Gladiolus grunts, “Let’s call it a day.”

Prompto lets out a quiet moan that sounds like agreement. Gladiolus reaches down to half help, half pull him up, even claps him on the back, which makes Prompto shake like his knees are going to give out again. Gladiolus takes both of their weapons like they weigh nothing, then trails back through the rest of the fighters to find a new partner. 

Prompto tosses his head back. He’s panting hard, slick with sweat, his sleeveless top clinging to his slender frame. He probably shouldn’t have worn skinny jeans. The sight of him wet and breathless would get to Noctis, if not for the sentimentality of the scene and the worry over bruises. 

Prompto takes a step towards the entrance to the yard before he spots Noctis there, and then he stumbles, blushing hot across his freckled cheeks. Noctis offers a warm smile—the sort of broad, genuine one that few people can pull out of him. Prompto smiles sheepishly back, but it drops too soon. He wanders over, looking spent and thoroughly discouraged.

When he reaches Noctis, he scratches the back of his neck, looking away and quietly laughing, “I’m definitely not there yet, but hey, it’s a start... right?”

“You did great.”

Prompto snorts derisively, but Noctis wasn’t kidding. He proves it by grabbing the collar of Prompto’s shirt and yanking him forward for a firm, unequivocal kiss, not caring who sees. It does the trick. When he settles back, Prompto looks surprised, then embarrassed, then as confident as he should be. Noctis tells him, “You looked really cool.”

“Pfft.” That might be a step too far. But Prompto’s grin is happy now, and he’s ten times as handsome for it. He tosses an arm around Noctis and sighs, “I should probably hit the showers... carry me there?”

Noctis laughs but loops an arm around him too, and they head back together.


End file.
